Little White Shadows
by Xazz
Summary: Sequel to Shadow Broker. 1935, Los Angeles, it's been ten years since Altair first came to America, and ten years since he left an old life behind. But old habits are hard to kick and it's easy to slip back into an old life style. He promises himself it's a temporary fix.


heeeeey. So this is the sequel to Shadow Broker. Yes Shadow Broker finished, you can find the full story of Shadow Broker AND the rest of this fic over on my AO3 account under the same handle or my tumblr blog shotgunandstars. I **will not** be posting the rest of this story here. This is _part_ of the first chapter. The last third of it is deleted because it's explicit and I don't post explicit things in accordance with this website's rules. Enjoy.

* * *

The alarm clock always woke Altair up. The rattling bell driving a spike into Altair's head. Behind him there was a groan and movement before Malik reached over and around him to grab the clock and nearly throw it across the room. As it was Malik just smashed it silent and dropped it on the table before putting his arm back around Altair and pressing his face back into Altair's shoulder.

They lay there for a while, Altair was awake, though dozing. Altair kept time in his head and knew how long Malik could loaf around before he had to get up. The time ticked even as sort of slipped in and out of sleep.

"You need to get up now," Altair's voice was soft when he spoke but he knew Malik heard him because he knew Malik wasn't really sleeping.

"In a minute dad," Malik said against his shoulder. Altair felt a tingle of delight slid down his spine of Malik's few day old stubble on his skin.

"You've had five minutes," Altair said, his voice was rough from sleep still. Malik groaned and pressed his face firmly into Altair's shoulder. Altair grinned to himself and took the hand Malik had around him and squeezed it, "Time to go to work," Altair said in a slightly sing-song voice.

Malik groaned again and sat up. Altair rolled onto his back to look at him while he yawned and stretched and rubbed his face. "I'm up," Malik announced tiredly. "Hey, stop that," Malik said, not upset, sounding more amused, as Altair ran his hand up Malik's belly along the line of shrapnel scarring. He snatched up Altair's hand and Altair grinned at him slightly.

"You know what this week is?" Altair asked him.

"Uh... no," Malik said, confused. He ran his hand through Altair's hair which was longer now. Altair adored when Malik did this. Once Altair had had a cat and it liked to be scratched on the ears and behind the head. Altair appreciated why the cat had loved it so much, he loved when Malik ran his hands through his hair. To be fair he just loved it when Malik touched him period, but the hair especially. "You need to get a haircut," Malik said and then his hand was gone. Damn.

"Whatever you say," Altair said.

Malik sighed and put his feet down, back to Altair, and then stood. Altair's eyes scoured his naked back, one half damaged and tight from the massive scarring on his back and shoulders. Altair turned onto his side as Malik walked to the bathroom. He was slightly annoyed right now, no matter how much he did love Malik. He didn't like thinking about Malik forgetting things, because it made him think about Malik getting older.

The shower went on in the bathroom and after a few minutes Altair sat up and ran his hand through his hair and got out of bed. He dressed in his clothes from last night and tugged the linens off the bed. It was Monday, meaning it was laundry day, and on Altair's list of chores for the day. He bundled up the sheets which smelled like what he and Malik had done the night before and threw them into the basket before leaving the room.

The house they lived in was meant for at least four people, with three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. Malik had bought it a few years ago with the money he'd held onto since the end of the War and everything had crashed and houses were cheap. Altair technically had his own bedroom, for when people came over, but he rarely used it. Unless he was mad at Malik at least.

The third bedroom was also occupied and that's where Altair went. Light came in through the thin curtains and the room smelled like old people. "Jed," Altair called as he walked into the room and went over to the bed. Talha al-Sayf was Malik's ancient father. Altair had a healthy respect for his ancestors but where his own grandfather was still... rather sprite, Talha had been old ten years ago when they'd first met and he was now even older. The old man's eyes opened when Altair drew near. "_Good morning grandfather,_" Altair said, leaning over the old man, who smiled at him. Talha's memory was pretty much gone and he couldn't speak very well. He remembered Altair though and thought he was his grandson, though couldn't put a name on Malik's would be wife. Altair and Malik were content to let the old man have that fantasy.

"_Morning_," Talha said as Altair came and helped him sit up. Talha was also mostly Altair's responsibility, as Malik still (mercifully) worked during the day and sometimes at night. He got Talha up and helped the old man dress, though he could walk around and eat by himself still. He just had some coordination problems and moved slowly but at least he could go to the bathroom by himself.

_"It's time for breakfast,_" Altair said, _"Go wash up,_" and Altair made sure Talha was tottering towards the bathroom before he went to the kitchen.

Altair couldn't cook. At least not very well. He could cook a meal and it was edible, but it was never fancy or extravagant. He could prepare a piece of meat without thinking as he was dreadfully good with a knife, but he was a travesty in the kitchen or doing anything particularly delicate for cooking.

But he could still make breakfast.

He had a cup of juice in front of Talha when Malik came out of his room, mostly dressed except for his jacket, his shirt pressed and buttoned and robin egg blue. "How awful is it I don't want to go to work," Malik complained, fixing his tie a bit.

"You have to deal with idiots, I don't blame you," Altair said, taking the toast out of the poor old toaster.

"You let me sleep in some," Malik said pouring coffee Altair had already brewed into a mug.

"I thought you should," Altair said, "You have that case giving you trouble."

Malik sighed and leaned against the counter, pouring in some sugar, "As usual, you're right."

"You didn't come to bed till late last night," he added and handed Malik his breakfast, some fruit and toast. Malik knew better than to complain about Altair making him eat breakfast. After so long Altair knew he could just stand over Malik and he'd eat.

Malik looked at Altair over the rim of his mug and sipped, "You didn't seem to mind," and damnit if Altair didn't blush. He was almost thirty years old and Malik could still make him blush like a twenty again. Damn old man.

"Are you going to work yet," Altair said, slightly irritable but not actually upset.

"Don't be like that," Malik grinned and slid over to him, setting his mug down and wrapped his arm around Altair's waist, "You're going to go gray before me," Malik said into his ear.

"Aren't you tired old man?" Altair said over his shoulder.

Malik just snorted, "Of you? Never," and kissed Altair on the neck. Altair savored the feeling of Malik's lips on his skin. Malik was freshly shaved though still had a beard around the front of his chin, though Altair admitted he liked when Malik didn't shave. He liked the stubble burn.

"You're going to be late if you don't eat your breakfast," Altair said, though his tone sounded rough to his ears.

Malik let him go and went to sit with his father at the table with his breakfast. Altair got his own breakfast and some for Talha too. "So what's on your list today?" Malik asked Altair as he popped a few grapes into his mouth.

Altair shrugged, "Normal stuff. After chores I'll go around and see if anyone needs some labor," Altair frowned to himself.

"It's alright," Malik said gently. It wasn't like it had been Altair's fault his last job had fired him. He'd worked at the same prescient with Malik as a beat cop, for only a few years at least, until the crash. Altair, as a man of color, had been fired as soon as the first wave of cuts had been initiated along with every other cop who wasn't white to save costs. Altair had very nearly killed someone after that from the absolute injustice of it. He'd been trained to fight against people who who did shit like this, who just stepped all over people because they didn't fit the status quo. Malik knew Altair was still mad about it, it had really only been because of Malik that Altair hadn't just gone and murdered Mr. England.

Altair just shrugged again and tried not think about it and ate his breakfast. Malik knew better than to bring it up since it was still a sore spot. Ezio had been fired in the same round of layoffs. What good were they if they couldn't even do what they'd spent their entire lives to get into a police department to work so at the very least they had access to the case files of bad people. Bad people they could just make go away. Now they couldn't. At least Malik still had his job, he was a detective, and a damn good one.

"_Ah... dad_," Malik said and the old man looked up at them, "_You got some yogurt,_" and Malik wiped at the corner of his mouth. Talha was still with it enough to understand and took his napkin and wiped his mouth. "_Got it_," Malik grinned at his father, Talha smiled back. Neither of them worried the old man didn't reply, he couldn't really talk anymore.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, then Malik had finished his breakfast and got up to go put his dishes in the sink. Altair would do them before he left for the day. Malik went back into the bedroom. _"Grandfather, you want more_?" Altair asked Talha as he got up to put his own plates in the sink.

_"No, I'm fine_," Talha said, his voice was rather high and actually slightly lyrical.

"_Okay_," Altair said and turned on the water to do the dishes.

Malik came out of the bedroom, pulling on his jacket with his briefcase with his case files. Malik walked up behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist, tugging Altair's hips flush with his. "Going to work now," he said.

"Have a good day," Altair said, reaching up to gently touch Malik's face.

"I'll try to be home earlier tonight," Malik promised.

Altair smiled, "Good," and Malik kissed him. It didn't matter how many times Malik kissed him, it always felt like he was falling, his heart speeding up, his stomach high up in his chest. It made his brain chemistry go nutty and he felt high he only felt like when he had his knife in someone's throat. Good god that was a feeling he hadn't had in a while, watching someone's life blood leak out of their body and onto his hands. Kissing Malik was just as invigorating. Altair wasn't even sure how that was possible. It wasn't like the urge went away, but Altair just felt like he could properly function without killing someone when Malik kissed him.

Altair sighed adoringly when Malik stopped kissing him, "I love you," he said. Malik pressed another kiss to his mouth sweetly.

"I'll see you when I get home," Altair nodded and couldn't help it that he stole one more kiss before letting Malik go. Malik left and Altair heard the car start and pull out of the driveway.

Altair got the rest of the dishes and did them rather quickly. Next he got Talha set up in the living room and turned on the radio for him. Talha was self sufficient so long as it didn't include food or dressing with himself. He'd sit and be okay in the living room by himself for the day until Altair came to get him to eat lunch. Once the dishes were done and Talha sitting comfortably he went and got the laundry together. There was one of those new laundromats down the street. He put all the laundry into the linen bag.

It only took Altair a few minutes to drop the laundry off at the laundromat, paying the chinese man to wash their clothes. He'd pick them up in a day or two when it was ready. On the way back he counted his pocket change. Laundry was counted in the few bucks Malik gave him for his weekly allowance. He had about three dollars left for the rest of the week, and it was only Monday. He did some mental calculations, since he had a plan for what he wanted to do and he'd been watching his nickels for what he wanted to buy.

Talha was where he left him when Atair got home. _"I'm home,_" he announced.

_"Altair, phone call_," Talha said.

_"Yeah? When?_"

"_Minute ago_," Talha said.

Altair went and picked up the phone from the cradle and dialed for the operator. "Operator," she said pleasantly.

"Yes, hello operator, could I be connected to the line that just tried to call this one?" he asked.

"Certainly," she said, and a moment later she had him connected and the line rang.

It picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"Me? You're the one who called me."

"This is Altair-

"Oh Altair thank god!" Altair actually leaned back in surprise, "It's Ezio you brown skinned idiot."

"Oh, Ezio. What do you want?" Altair asked, glancing at the clock, he needed to get going soon if he wanted to head out and look for a job before it got too late. Malik had work very early but most businesses didn't open for another half hour, and Altair had to walk. Walking in L.A. was not fun.

"I need you to come over."

"What?"

"Come over. Right now."

"Ezio I'm going to look for a job-

"It's a Family emergency," and Atair stopped.

"Oh? Who came to visit?" he asked carefully.

"The idiots from Boston. Please. I need your help to deal with them," Ezio pleaded, "They... found some local color."

Altair sighed, "Can't you deal with it?"

"If I could I wouldn't have called you. Please," Ezio actually begged.

Altair groaned, "Fine. You know I don't want to-

"I know," Ezio said, "But it's... some problems with some transplanted weeds."

"You're _kidding_ me," Altair huffed.

"I wish! I need you."

"Fiiine, I'll call a cab, you're paying for it."

"Yeah! No problem!" Ezio said energetically.

"Okay, I'll be there soon," and they said goodbye.

Altair sighed and rubbed his head. Just what he didn't want, dealing with his Family. Ezio had promised to keep his mouth shut on where he was ten years ago because if they found out about Malik... thinking about it made Altair ill. Telling a Stranger was bad enough, though you could do it if the head of a family gave you permission, but a cop? They'd sooner shoot Malik in the head then let Altair explain. Altair didn't know what he'd do if Malik was gone. He remembered telling Malik he might kill himself if Malik made him kill him and Altair wasn't sure how much he was lying. He'd been so... empty before. It had been awful and terrible and he never wanted to go back to that again.

But Altair couldn't just ignore when his Family called, or when they got into stupid trouble! Ten years off the wagon but he still answered when called to help. So he called a cab and set Talha up with some food he could eat while he waited and got together his kit.

He went into his room, the one he didn't share with Malik and crawled under the bed. There was box in the back of the bed he rarely went and looked at but felt comfortable that was there and dragged it out. He and the box came out covered in dust. Altair sneezed as he wiped the box and opened the combination lock. Inside was a gun a pair of knives, some bullets and a cloth backpack. He took all it them, tucking his knives away grabbing bag and putting the bullets and gun in there. He didn't like guns too much. They were loud and impersonal. If Altair had to end a life he preferred to be up close, so he could feel the beat of their heart leaking out around his knife and watch the light in their eyes go out and feel the high of it properly. Altair's eyes drifted closed thinking about it, he wanted it again, sometimes, an itch he longed to scratch. That was usually when he dragged Malik to his to kiss or touch him and run his fingers over his scars.

Outside a car honked, it was his cab. Altair got up with a slight grunt and headed for the door. _"Grandfather I'm going out_," he called to Talha. Talha made some sort of noise that sounded like an affirmation and Altair left the house, locking the door behind him. The cab was waiting for him at the curb. Altair got in and told him Ezio's address. Whoever was there with Ezio Altair had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

* * *

Ezio lived closer in the city than Malik and Altair did, and lived in an apartment complex. He actually had a rather nice place even though he was as unemployed as Altair, but he had money from his father back east and the Family in general. The Family took care of their own. Altair rang the doorbell for Ezio and his cousin was out the door with his wallet and paid the driver then he was ushering Altair inside quickly, nearly bullying him down the short hall to his first floor apartment.

Altair put his hand on the door as Ezio went to open it, "Who's in there?" he asked.

"I told you-

"No," Altair said firmly, "_Names_," because he knew Ezio knew that depending on the people Altair would just leave. Some Family members were more dangerous to be around than others, ones closer to the family patriarchs were bad news, because they knew Altair. Ones that were more distant cousins were safer, they didn't know who Altair was.

"Aveline de Grandpre and Connor Kenway," Ezio said.

"Kenway?" he knew of the Grandpre girl, her father was Altair's distant uncle through his mother and not part of the main families, her mother had been a Stranger and hadn't known about them. But Kenway? Last time he'd heard of the Kenways the head of family had been murdered and the rest of the family in disarray. Effectively the Kenway branch had been dead even before Altair had been born, their entire story a cautionary tale about trusting Strangers.

"Yeah, that's what I said," because of course Ezio knew the history of the Kenways.

"The Kenways are dead," Altair said.

"That's what I said. He says he's a Kenway."

Altair frowned, "What's Aveline say?"

"She vouches for him. I would have asked their overseer but I can't get a hold of him. Now can we go in?"

Altair took his hand off the door and Ezio opened it. Ezio's apartment was nice but small, he didn't need a lot of space since he lived alone. At the table was a woman, dark skinned her hair short and flapper, curled up tight to her head, though she wore men's clothes, slacks and a shirt, and when the door opened a gun was pointed at them both. "Woah, easy," Ezio said, hands raised. The woman held the gun, a six shooter and had a fresh cut on her mouth and eyebrow.

"Who's he?" Altair guessed it was Aveline. Ezio closed the door behind them.

"My name's Altair," Altair said, "I'm not a Stranger," he added.

"Name," she said, though didn't put her gun down.

"Ibn La'Ahad," that was one of his names. Altair's full last name went on for what felt like five minutes when said aloud. Sometimes he hated being an Arab, the names just went on and on and on. Ibn-La'Ahad was his father's side of the family, his other grandfather had been Ibn-La'Ahad

Aveline put the gun down, "Okay," she said.

"Where's Connor?" Ezio asked.

"Bathroom, changing a bandage," she said and slumped back in the chair and then groaned and touched her side.

"What happened?" Altair asked.

"Tommy guns," Aveline said.

"From who?" Altair asked again, "Ezio said you needed help. What help?"

"We didn't need help," she gave Ezio a look.

"You both showed up at my door half damn dead," Ezio scolded her. "You need help."

"Is there someone here?" Altair turned when the door to the bathroom opened. The man who came out of his was a brick house and made Ezio look's big arms look small.

For a second Altair couldn't talk he was too surprised since he'd never seen a Native American up close which was exactly what they were, then he said, "You're the Kenway?" He had ever right to be skeptical, the Kenways had been English. He was supposed to believe some red man was a Kenway?

They sighed, "We have to do this again?" he asked.

"Yeah," Altair said, frowning. "The Kenways are dead, so who the fuck are you?"

"A Kenway," Connor said in a steely tone. Altair narrowed his eyes at them a bit.

"Who's your father then?" Altair asked.

"Shouldn't we be talking about what we're going to do and not my parentage?" Connor asked.

"Connor, I know you haven't met really any other members of our Family. But to us... this is important," Aveline said. Damn right it was. Altair wouldn't bother to pretend the Family wasn't elitist and worried about their bloodline and who they were connected to and which other branches they were related to. Altair had been raised in it and he knew he was elitist about it too, everyone in the room was and they all knew it. Except Connor it seemed.

"Who's your father?" Altair asked again.

"I don't know," Connor said.

"Yet you claim to be a Kenway?" Altair rose his brows at Connor.

"My mother claimed he was a Kenway," Connor said, now looking extremely uncomfortable with the interrogation. Altair didn't care, you didn't just walk around saying you were part of a dead Family branch. "Our overseer says I am," he added.

"Who's your overseer?"

"Davenport," Aveline answered since Connor looked not just uncomfortable, but angry too. "Achilles Davenport is our overseer." Altair knew Davenport, they were old and American, one of the few old families from America along with the Miles and practically ran New England. Altair had had to meet Achilles when he'd first made landfall on his way to Chicago. Apparently the old man was still acting head and overseer. Good to know.

"Achilles says you're a Kenway?" Altair clarified at Connor.

"Yes," Connor said.

There was a long paused, "Okay," he said. "Now why did you call me here?" he asked Ezio.

"These two are on a hunt," Ezio said, pointing at both Aveline and Connor.

"Then what are you doing here in L.A.?" Altair asked them.

"We started in Boston," Connor said, "but then our target left. Achilles told us to track him. So we did, and we ended up here."

"Who's the hit?" Altair asked.

"Jake Nasir," Aveline said, "part of the Irish mob, though his momma married some Arab. He thinks he has something to prove, so he's making a real mess of things."

"Does he have something to prove?" Altair asked.

"He thinks so," Aveline said, "the police were closing in on him in Boston, and so were we. He jumped on a train before we could get him though. That was six months ago. He's started to make a name for himself here in L.A. and we mean to get him this time though."

"What's all this?" Altair motioned to their hurts.

"We tracked him, but Nasir is smart. He knew we were coming and ambushed us. There had to be thirty macs there, right Connor?"

"At least," Connor agreed.

Altair looked between the two of them, then at Ezio, "This is what you called me for? Two twits on our side of the country getting jumped by an easy mark?"

"Don't make it sound like he ran away," Aveline said angrily. "We were ambushed."

"An excuse," Altair said, "the Family doesn't make excuses," he told her in a hard tone.  
"Altair don't be such a hard ass," Ezio said.

"Why not? They're acting like children. Getting hurt and then come sniveling to you for help. My overseer used to hit me harder than that for simple disobedience," not like it was a lie. In Chicago his overseer had taken special interest in trying to beat Altair's rebellion out of him, to put a leash and muzzle on a fighting dog. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I expected you to have some better ideas," Ezio hissed. "You realize who this is right?"

"Who who is?"

"Nasir."

"No, I don't," Altair rolled his eyes.

Ezio glanced at the other two then at Altair, "It's Malik's current case," he said.

"Malik?" Aveline asked, "Who's Malik?"

"Our previous connection in the L.A. police. We're still friends," Ezio explained. "You didn't know this was his current case?"

"I don't ask," Altair asked, "You think I want to get him suspicious?" truthfully he didn't remember. Altair lived with Malik, and usually when Malik was home Altair was thinking other things than what sort of cases he was currently working.

"Well it is," Ezio said, "He's been running the case for like two weeks now, trying to track down Nasir."

Altair gave Ezio a look, though he knew what his cousin was getting at. "So we're going to play vigilante justice instead of hunters?" Altair asked.

"Why not?" Ezio shrugged.

"No way," Aveline said, "Achilles said to kill Nasir."

"Well Achilles isn't here," Altair rolled his eyes at her, "You're on our turf and so is Nasir."

"So he's ours to deal with as we want," Ezio said.

"That's not-

"Aveline," Connor cut her off, "We're hurt, we should let them," he clearly didn't like relying on them, but they were between a rock and a hard place. There wasn't much they could do really.

"Nasir is ours," Aveline said firmly.

"If that's how it goes," Ezio said. "Now you both need to tell me and Altair everything you know about Nasir and we'll figure this out."

"Yeah but-

"I'm the oldest old bastard here, you listen to me little girl; got it?" Ezio asked and Altar was secretly very pleased. "Now," he directed Connor and Altair to sit, "Spill," he ordered once they were all sitting. Altair knew this was going to be a long explanation.

* * *

**BE SURE YOU READ THE TOP NOTE BEFORE ASKING ME FOR AN UPDATE.**


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